Star Island: Sandy Beaches Where Dreams Are Made Of

Last weekend was the one year anniversary of the best weekend of my life (day 1, day 2, days 3-4). Although I knew this weekend would be a great one, it's difficult to avoid comparing all my future weekends to last year's Boston Excursion, which surpassed any possible expectations and was truly magical in nature. That being said, it's also hard to have a bad time on the 4th of July. Especially if you know of a little place called Assssssssspin, where the beer flows like wine and the women flock like the salmon of Capistrano. Wait... I mean if you know a little place called Star Island on the great Cass Lake. Myself, along with a few of my cohorts made the trip to 'sota for an old fashioned good time.

My boy Addy, was flying in to our old college town of Grand Forks on Friday and hitching a ride with SSWY, his lovely wife, and their two dogs. From the outside that looks like nice little family and friends trip. The two dogs in this nice little family and friends trip happen to be English Bulldogs. Duke and Dora used to look like this, but now they look more like this. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a tad. I'm just saying, they are bigger than they used to be, and Addy might have been a little cramped riding bitch with these two pups lounging in the backseat with him. I was driving up from OmaHuh on Friday and, being the adventurous type that I am, decided that I would go up slightly out of my way to GF to meet my friends, see the old town, eat some greatly missed cuisine, and convoy back to B-town with the crew. So instead of heading east at Fargo, I continued north with visions of grinders and cheese tostadas dancing in my head.

The dogs used to fit in the sink. Not so much anymore. Is there anyone sitting on that chair? I can't tell.

Once I arrived, I only had to fulfill a couple of SSWY's husband duties as he was working (run errands with the wife and take the dogs for a walk) before I could enjoy the simple greatness that is the Red Pepper. Unfortunately, we had to pick-up Addy at the airport before I could take full advantage of my fill-in husband duties (ho ho just kidding Lindsey!). As we said goodbye to the married kids, who were in a bigger hurry to get back home than us two swingin' bachelors, we pondered where this night was heading. After some quick BWWs, we headed to a favorite watering hole called Judy's to meet an acquaintance from Addy's schooling years. Soon, hours had passed by in what seemed like minutes, as we talked and laughed the night away with funny stories, past and present. All good things must come to an end, so we said our goodbyes and headed over to the Red Pepper. Yes, again. Addy hadn't even been there yet and I wasn't going to deny him of some delicious grinder goodness because I had previously eaten there six hours prior! Plus it was after midnight, so it wasn't like I had it twice in one day or anything (As if that even matters? Why do I feel like people are judging me like I broke some kind of law?). I like to eat turkey grinders with taco meat, doused in red and white sauce. Deal with it.

We made a safe journey home where I dropped Addy at his folks' place before returning to my folks' place. What a nice surprise I had waiting for me upon my arrival home. The bed I normally sleep in was occupied. So, there I was left with a pull-out, but not just any ordinary pull-out. It is a single pull-out, probably the only one ever made due to it's ridiculously small size. A seven year old kid might fit on this thing, maybe if he didn't have legs. By the time I actually tried to go to sleep, it was 5 AM and the sun was coming up on a beautiful Saturday morning.

The next day was a nice little Saturday even without a Home Depot visit. I'd say the highlights were spending some time on the lake, meeting some friends out, and dominating some pizza from Dave's. The pizza was by far the best part of the day. I'm saying that despite the hours I spent flying across Lake Bemidji on a jet-ski. Flying. The wind was really tossing my watercraft around out there. I'm just giving you an idea of how good the pizza is. If it can beat the greatest water sport activity ever invented, it's gotta be goooooood.

On America's birthday, I began the day eating a wonderfully prepared meal of brats, corn, beans, snicker salad, cheesy potatoes, and beer; not a bad way to start off the greatest day in American history. Addy and I were ready for Dad to take us out to Star Island. (Background story: Dad, in this scenario, is neither Addy's nor my dad. Dad is a friend of ours that acts a lot like our dads. He takes us fishing and hunting, drives us around if we've been drinking, plays darts with us, and takes us to Star Island. In lieu of this, we call him Dad and he calls both of us his sons.) Just like a good Dad always comes through, so did our Dad on this glorious day of American pride.

Many people from the Great White North know of the island that is called Star. I am proud to say I am one of them, and I frequent the beautiful place any chance I can. For those of you who don't know, let me paint a word picture. Imagine, for a second, a sandy beach tucked in a cove on an island. Imagine walking in knee to waist deep water, feeling nothing but sand between your toes, as the waves gently crash upon the shore. Imagine 100+ boats pulling up to the shoreline and anchoring for a day of sun soaking and partying with friends and strangers alike, as time crawls slowly by, hour after fun-filled hour. Imagine jet-skis, water-skis, beach games, music, and best of all - young girls in bikinis, stretching as far as down as the shore will allow. Imagine a place where smiles are infinite and dreams become reality. That is the place we spent our 4th of July, and it was simply amazing. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is something about being on the water that makes me realize how good life is and where my home truly is. I love that place.

What happens on Star Island, stays on Star Island. Except for swimmer's itch. That shit'll come back with you. -Addy D